


No Laughing Matter

by notanightlight



Category: DC Animated Universe, DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Blood, Dark, Gen, Still The Darkest Thing I've Ever Written, Torture, this is a horror story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8438722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notanightlight/pseuds/notanightlight
Summary: Robin falls into the hands of the Joker, and things will never be the same.  (Written for a prompt on the yj_anon_meme and originally posted to my livejournal on Apr. 27, 2011, and finally crossposted to my AO3 in honor of Halloween.)





	

 

Knock knock.  
  
That’s how all of the worst jokes started. Knock knock. Who’s there? Proceed with lame set up. End with bad punch line. Everyone laughs, because you’re supposed to laugh.  
  
That’s how this started too.  
  
The team had been sitting in the living room, pretending that they weren’t as tense as a bowstring. For the past two weeks they’d been living in a state of constant tension. They’d been cooped up in Happy Harbor with no missions and explicit instructions to stay put.  
  
No one would even tell them what happened.  
  
They’d gone home for a weekend. Well, Wally, Kaldur, and Robin had, at least. Robin hadn’t come back. Neither had their dispatcher. At first, Wally just assumed that there was some mission in Gotham keeping them busy. It had happened before. But then a full week passed without contact from Batman, and Canary and Tornado told them that all missions were going to be suspended. They’d been told not to leave the base for any reason and that was that. No explanation.  
  
Wally had tried to pry it out of Barry, but even he wouldn’t tell them anything.  
  
So when Supey said, “Someone’s knocking at the front door,” Wally was more than happy for the distraction. “I got it!” he shouted, zipping out of the room before anyone else could say a word.  
  
He threw the door open, calling out, “Who’s there?” No one answered. No one was there. Just a familiar yellow utility belt sitting innocuously on the stoop with a small smiley face drawn on the buckle in sharpie marker.  
  
Wally felt his stomach drop into his shoes.  
  
  
  
It was a sedate Wally that shuffled back into the living room. His face was bleak and his eyes focused on the belt in his hands. He stopped just inside the doorway.

“Kid, wha-“

“Something happened to Rob,” Wally cut off Kaldur mid question. “Someone left this by the door. Robin never leaves his utility belt behind! It’s like, part of his Bat-code or something!” His voice was running away with him.  
  
His stopped when Kaldur rested a hand on the shaken speedster’s shoulder, commanding in his gentle tone, “Calm down.“ Wally took a deep breath and brought himself to tear his gaze away from the belt. He met his leader's concerned eyes. Superboy was halfway out of his chair, M’gann hovering nearby.  
  
“We’re not going to do anything rash, and we’re not going to jump to any conclusions.” How Kaldur could keep his head in these kinds of situations, Wally would never know, but he supposed that’s why the Atlantean was their leader and not him. “M’gann, please contact the League.” Miss Martian nodded her head and flew over to the communications board.  
  
She must’ve reached out telepathically as well because her uncle was the one on the screen when the connection went through. “M’gann, is something wrong?” the Martian’s voice was laced with concern.  
  
“I think so, Uncle.” She replied, her hands held nervously in front of her. This prompted Wally to step forward. Once he was sure he was in view he presented the utility belt. “ I…I think something happened to Rob. They left this on our doorstep.”  
  
The Martian Manhunter’s shoulders visibly tensed although his expression never changed.  
  
“…Batman will be there in half an hour. Please do not do anything with the belt.”  
  
J’onn was wrong. Batman was there in 14 minutes.  
  
As soon as he arrived he retrieved Robin’s belt from Wally, studying it with a practiced eye. He listened to their account of events as he scrutinized the off-putting smiley. He turned the belt over in his hands before opening one of the little pouches that seemed no different from any of the others. An unmarked mini disk fell out onto his palm.  
  
“You shouldn’t see this.” The Batman said, advancing on the monitor with the disk in hand.  
  
Wally’s nerves were already frayed enough that he didn’t stop himself from blurting out. “Like Hell! I’m tired of everyone brushing us off! We deserve to know what happened to Rob!” By the time his brain caught up with his mouth, his hand was already covering it.  
  
Batman was looking at him over his shoulder. To his never ending surprise, Batman just gave him a nod before saying, “I don’t know what is on this disk. You’ve been warned.” For some reason, that only made Wally feel more nervous.  
  
Wally fidgeted as he watched Batman load the mini disk into Mount Justice’s monitor. One of his legs was bouncing up and down almost without his notice as he stared at the still black screen. A hand descended on his shoulder, shocking him to stillness. He looked at the webbed fingers offering him silent support and then up to Kaldur’s face. He looked tense but focused as he waited for the first images to come up on the screen.  
  
The room was silent except for the gentle whirring of the disk loading. Wally took a moment to look at the rest of the team where they had gathered. Superboy was standing near him, fists tight and a wrinkle between his eyebrows. Wally wondered if he understood just why everyone dreaded that little disk. Did he have any idea? Had they taught him anything about it while he was still in the tube? Did any of the movies they had made him watch in the name of team bonding involve a ransom video or anything like it? Wally couldn’t remember.  
  
A little ways past him was M’gann. She turned her head and caught his eye, offering him a small smile. He wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be reassuring or sad, but he felt that it might be both. Artemis was on next to her, arms crossed tightly over herself like a shield; a barrier against whatever was going to come up once the video played.  
  
Wally looked over at Batman, but he couldn’t read him. Batman could have been feeling any number of things at that moment, but he couldn’t tell.  
  
Robin would’ve been able to.  
  
“Helloooooooo Batsy!” The video started and the screen was filled with the sickeningly pale visage of Gotham’s own clown prince of crime. His yellowed teeth flashed as he laughed, larger than life on the monitor. “You are there, aren’t you Batsy?” Joker asked, peering into the camera lens close enough that the image distorted in a fisheye effect that made his black, bloodshot eye appear to be the size of someone’s head. “Because it would be such a drag if you weren’t!”  
  
“I’m sure he’s there, Mr. J!” A woman’s voice said from off camera. The smile turned into a snarl in a split second. “I know Harley.” He growled, his eyes flicking upwards. She must have been running the camera. There was a small squeak-like sound that could’ve come from the woman and his face returned to its familiar grin.  
  
“I have to say Batsy, I’m starting to feel a little neglected here.” The madman’s voice was mockingly somber as it slipped through his smile. “What with you off playing with your little Justice League all the time. It’s like I hardly see you anymore! And then you send our little bird away?” He made a little tutting sound and wagged a finger at the camera. “Well that just won’t do! A boy could get homesick at his tender age, so we decided to make sure he was getting some quality time in good ol’ Gotham!”  
  
“Just look at how much fun we’re having!” He crowed, backing away from the camera to reveal the long missing boy wonder.  
  
Wally heard someone gasp behind him and saw Superboy take a step forward, but he couldn’t move. He could barely force himself to breathe.  
  
Robin was strapped down to something that looked like an old dentist chair. He looked so tiny and pale, like an ill kept porcelain doll, one tap away from cracking. His wrists were tied to the armrests, coarse ropes visibly biting into his ungloved skin. A leather strap across his forehead kept his head secured to the headrest. Another strap across his shoulders kept his chest down. His shirt had been ripped away to reveal his battered skin.  
  
Oh God. Wally couldn’t even imagine what it took to make marks like those. Robin’s mask was still in place but there were tear tracks leading down from it, cutting through the buildup of grime on his face. They were in odd places, forced to find a place where the tears could work through the adhesive to get out. He didn’t want to think about how much tear buildup it would take for that to happen. He didn’t want to think about Robin crying at all.  
  
Robin’s chest rose in erratic, shallow breaths that were distressingly close to sobs. His body seemed to be having small trembling fits and Wally tried to convince himself that it must be very cold wherever Robin was despite the sweat matting his dark hair. Other than that, he wasn’t moving. If he had been struggling against the bindings or smart mouthing back at the Joker, Wally wouldn’t have felt this level of terror sinking into his skin. But Robin just sat there, like he was too worn out to do anything but pant.  
  
Wally had heard horror stories about Joker, but honestly didn’t know too much about his MO. Looking at the various marks marring his friend’s skin (cuts, burns, bruises, so many) Wally was torn between wanting to know what might have happened to him, and being desperately relieved that he didn’t. Either way, he was extremely thankful that Robin’s tights, stained and torn as they were, were still in place. The camera was too high for him to see Rob’s feet, but he had no doubt they were bound too.  
  
The Joker had been cackling the whole time. It was like an off-putting soundtrack to a horror film. “Isn’t he such a good boy?” He interjected, putting a hand on Robin’s head like he meant to ruffle his hair and pushed down on it instead. Robin’s breath increased and he made a small whimper.  
  
“Now I know the first thing you must be worrying about is that silly identity of his.” The madman continued, ignoring the boy wonder’s mounting panic. “But you can feel at ease knowing that I have absolutely no interest in that!” He quickly untied the series of knots that held Robin’s left hand in place. Wally didn’t know what he was expecting, for Robin to punch him, grab his collar, pull some gadjet out and miraculously knock the clown out. But Robin didn’t do any of those things. His arm just hung limply in the Joker’s grip. Wally came to the sickening realization that the Joker didn’t need those restraints to hold Robin down, but to keep him upright. Displayed for their viewing pleasure.  
  
“See! I even made sure there wouldn’t be any prints!” He nearly shouted with glee as he held the boy’s hand up to the camera. The fleshy pads had been cut away from the tips of his fingers. They twitched as the madman’s thumb dug into his palm. They were a mess of dark scabs and sluggishly bleeding scarlet wounds.  
  
Wally felt ill. If there had been anything in his stomach at all he would have surely lost it right there in the middle of the monitor room. As it was, he had to do everything in his power not to dry heave. Kaldur’s fingers were digging into his shoulder with bruising force, but he barely registered it. This was twisted.  
  
“So you can see he’s perfectly safe with me!” The Joker exclaimed, raising his hands and dragging Robin’s with. His laughter covered up the sound of Robin’s whimper as the strap at his shoulders painfully dug into his arm.  
  
“Now I bet you’re scratching that pointy eared head of yours wondering why I invited the brat to the party and not you.” Joker continued on, gesturing grandly with his hands, still dragging Robin’s with.  
  
His face took on a mock serious expression “Well to be perfectly frank, I think you and I need to have a serious chat… So no parties for you, mister!” He said with arching tones, shaking the Boy Wonder’s limp hand at the camera like a mother shaking their finger at a naughty child. A speck of blood from his fingertip landed on the corner of the lens. Wally desperately hoped that someone would wipe it away so it wouldn’t be sitting there as a little red reminder at the corner of the screen for however long this torture lasted. Nobody did.  
  
“You see, Batsy, I’ve noticed that our dearest little birdie has been spending a lot of time out waaay past his bed time, running around with hooligans!” The madman paused. “And I’m concerned.” He paused again, giving the camera some parody of an earnest expression. “Because I care.” He paused again, seemingly just because he was having fun making overly done ‘sincere’ faces while Robin’s quiet whimpering lingered in the silence. “About children and bird watching!” He hugged Robin’s captive arm to his chest, squeezing it the way a child might a favored toy that would lose all of its stuffing in a few months. The angle was awkward and had to be putting a painful amount of strain on the boy’s elbow.  
  
The Joker tilted his head and suddenly the saccrine sweet expression he’d been wearing became truly menacing. A grin slowly crept over his face, enhancing the alarming expression. The madness in those oily black eyes made the blood in Wally’s body freeze so thoroughly that he thought he might never be able to move from this spot again.  
  
“That’s not healthy for a growing boy, you know.” Joker continued in a disconcertingly light tone. “You kicked him out of the nest too soon, and sent him so far away!” He chuckled low in his throat. “Why, I’d almost think that you were trying to keep him away from me!” He clutched the arm even tighter and Wally was convinced he heard something snap. He prayed it was whatever Superboy had gotten his hands on.  
  
“A boy needs some stability in his life! And I’m just not sure you’re up for the task, Batsy!” This time the chuckle came from behind the camera, reminding Wally that Harley was just standing right there watching it all, enjoying it even! “So I’m sure you agree I was only acting as any responsible adult would.” He turned to face Robin, roughly stroking the boy’s hair with one hand while still hanging on to Robin’s with the other. “You understand, don’t you Bird Boy?” Robin’s trembling increased. “It’s all for your own good.”  
  
He pulled a rather large hypodermic needle from his pocket. “See? I got this all ready for you.” He waved it in front of the boy’s face. Robin’s whimpering increased at the sight of the florescent green liquid inside it, until it became a very distinct litany of “No” over and over again. The first, and so far only, word he had said throughout the whole ordeal, and it was a pathetic little half-pleading, half-sobbing sound torn from his sore throat by terror. “There, there Birdie. Things are gonna look a lot brighter!” He made a great show of pressing the tip of the needle to the skin in the crook of Robin’s arm.  
  
The Joker’s eyes rolled back to the camera, grin dominating his face. “You know Batsy… I always wanted a son.” And with that he depressed the plunger, delivering the serum into the Boy Wonder’s veins.  
  
  
At first there was no visible changes aside from Robin’s increasing panic. Wally had almost a minute where he dared to hope that it was a joke and soon the Joker would shout out ‘GOTCHA!’ and laugh his ass off at the heart attack he just gave them. Then the boy’s shallow breaths transformed into quite giggles. They grew into Robin’s familiar chuckle. “I love that laugh.” The Joker murmured, full attention on the trembling boy as he watched his work. Fresh tears began to leak out the sides of Robin’s mask.  
  
The chuckles grew into wild cackling, every part of Robin’s body shivered and quivered. They escalated into gut busting laughter. His body spasmed against his bindings, the leather bit into his battered skin and sent new rivulets of crimson blood running over his bruises. Each laugh sounded painful, like they were literally ripped out of his throat in chunks of sound, taking hunks of flesh with them.  
  
The sweat that had dotted his brow earlier now trickled constantly down Robin’s pasty skin. He seemed even paler than before, a stark white against the black of his mask and his matted hair.  
  
The Joker was giggling and hooting with joy as he watched the spectacle. His voice created a dissonant harmony with Robin’s uncontrolled laughter; an insane duet. He still hadn’t let go of Robin’s arm. It jerked and jumped in his grasp. The hand clenched and opened, it cracked the scabs that had formed at his fingertips, fresh blood stained his fingers and palm red.  
  
Then suddenly all the motion stopped. Robins whole body held still in a moment of tension against the straps, every muscle in his body stood out. The only sound coming from his throat was a near silent gasping. Then he slumped with a sigh, completely limp, and let the straps do their job. The only evidence of his earlier laugh attack was the wide grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. His dry lips were cracked and bleeding. His teeth were clenched. Wally had never seen a smile look more painful.  
  
“Looks like he’s ready!” The Joker said, as if he were talking about some cookies put in an oven. He let the hand drop, and it hung limply in the air. With a flourish, the Clown Prince reached up and tore Robin’s mask away. “I think I’ll call him Punch Line!”  
  
There was a high-pitched squeal from off screen and suddenly Harley darted into the frame, bumping the camera so the image was slightly crooked. “Oh, Puddin! I always wanted a baby!” She shouted, throwing her arms around both the Boy Wonder and the bizarre dentist chair he was strapped to. The Joker just smiled at the camera, putting one arm around Harley and the other on Robin’s unflinching shoulder.  
  
Wally just stared into the oily black, bloodshot eyes that used to belong to his best friend, and doubled over, heaving gastric juices all over the monitor room floor. A chorus of unhinged chuckles filled in the background.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I originally planned to write a sequel to this. Ooops.


End file.
